


Just This Once

by owlmoose



Series: Pieces of Thedas [11]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Casual Sex, F/M, Kiss Battle, magic kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders tries not to remember the time he spent in the Pearl, but sometimes Isabela makes it impossible to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just This Once

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age Kiss Battle. Prompt: "Isabela/Anders, just like old times"

"Really? Not once?" Isabela's eyebrows practically disappear beneath her headscarf, and Anders has to fight something between a laugh and a groan. How does he let Isabela drag him into these conversations? "But it's been..." She sits back in her chair and counts on her fingers, and her eyes go wide with horror. "Andraste's sweet tits, Anders! It's... unnatural, that's what it is. Especially for someone with your appetites." She shifts in her chair, leans her elbow on the table, gives him a playful leer. "Believe me, I remember them well."

Anders looks around, but no one else they know is in the tavern, and so he turns back to Isabela, folding his arms over his chest and tips his head sideways. "Do you?"

"Of course." Isabela leaned back again, hands laced behind her head, looking up at the ceiling but focusing on something much further away. "That trick with the lightning... mmm. Nope, a girl doesn't go forgetting a night like that." She lowers her chin and looks at him, eyes sparking with an electricity all their own, and he feels a tug in response, a long, slow pull that starts in his belly, then spreads south. How long has it been since anyone made him want like this? _(Anyone except Hawke, but that's a thought with no future, one he makes himself banish.)_ How much longer since he acted on it?

He sighs, lowers his eyes, admits the truth: "Neither does a man." And he does remember that night at the Pearl: piling into bed with Isabela and a man whose name he can't recall and possibly never knew, her warm mouth and nimble fingers, his hands crackling with magic, the way she wriggled her hips and cried out, the other man's lips hot on the nape of his neck. 

The tugging becomes more forceful, drawing him to her, lifting his hand to cup her face. The touch is electric even without the spell, and Isabela sighs, leaning into his palm. A vague sense of disgruntlement rises in the back of his mind, but he shuts it down with a thought. Touch is a need of the body, he reminds Justice, just as much as food and sleep, and this particular need has been denied for much too long. 

Just this once, he pleads; _just this once_ , the voice repeats, then falls quiet. Justice does not approve, but neither will he argue, and thus released, Anders closes his eyes and leans in for the kiss. A simple kiss, at first, his lips caressing hers, sucking on her lower lip, a light touching of tongues. Then Anders reaches within and calls on the elements, just enough to bring a snap of lightning into his fingers. It takes the most delicate balance of control -- too little and it won't be felt; too much and he risks causing grave harm to them both. Just enough magic to bring forth a light buzzing sensation, rippling along his skin, and he moves his fingertips over Isabela's cheek, tracing her brow, the curve of her ear, and she gasps, a little more with each touch. 

Kissing him harder now, Isabela's hand slides up his thigh and under his robes to land in his lap, her fingers pressing against his cock, and Anders lets out a moan, the heat of her hand almost too much even through his trousers. "Maker preserve me," he groans as he arches into her. "I can't--"

"Oh, for Andraste's sake." The disgusted noise cuts through the haze of lust, and Anders wrenches himself away to turn around and look at Norah, who collects the empty bottles from the table and shakes her head. "Get a room, would you?"

Anders ducks his head and glances at Isabela, who only grins at him, her cheeks flushed. "I have a room," she says.

Without giving him a chance to respond, she grabs him by the hand and pulls him up the stairs. And without giving himself a chance to change his mind, Anders follows, already thinking about what element he might summon for her pleasure next. Just this one, he tells himself. What can it harm?


End file.
